Welcome to my grimoire, my name is D'orf and this is my vacation journal. 

It's not actually a vacation journal. After years of training, my master Gjorg has deemed me worthy, and sent me on my wizard quest. He claimed working on this journal will help keep me centered during my quest. In passing he also said "D'orf, everyone wonders how we wizards make money, but not one soul questions the amount of books we wizards publish yearly."

I too had wondered how wizards make all their money. However if all it takes is writing in a journal you won't hear me complain. 

Wizards money besides the point, my master said I must be out of the tower tonight lest he turn me into a cat. While I have witnessed him do to many a Bandit, I can never tell if they retain their memories or not, though now that I think about it I'm not sure which is worse, remembering being human or not. 

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Forgive my tangents, I have a tendency to ramble. Besides, it is my journal. I can do as I please. 

When I asked my master what exactly my wizard quest is he laughed and said "it'll find me" . What I do know is that when it is complete I will be a full wizard. Now that I write that, what the hells does being a full wizard even mean? 

Nevertheless I've packed all I own, my gray cloak with its matching hat, all the money I've managed to save up, only a measly five silver stones and my sunglasses. 

As I'm writing this I am leaving the tower, the home I've spent fifteen of my twenty-two years of life in, the home all my friends still live…and I couldn't be more happier. This tower stinks of old wizard, I fear my nose may never recover.